Willard

Willard Jun 2018

Sigourney was a saltwater princess
born from a flash flood;
a stray cat I found
stuck between the boards
of a wooden fence.

Her cries mimicked
the local 6 o'clock siren
with a backdrop
of toe beans fettering
on a park sidewalk.

I mirrored the way
her left paw traced
the cracks of the cement,
(fast paced, sloppily),
then ushered her out
using a combination of
strength and saliva.

"It's okay,
you won't get wet,"
I whispered
as my left hand struggled
getting out a plastic bag.

Carefully,
with precision,
Sigourney was plopped
backwards into
torn up plastic
marked
Have A Nice Day!

Alone we trudged
through flooded baseball fields
and gazebos
to cross the highway.

"Do you want
to go home?
Do you have
a home?"

I took a shortcut through
the Taco Bell drive-thru,
cars honking,
claws breaking through
malleable material.
cotton, skin, etc.

Sigourney said nothing.

"Good,
because I don't know
if I want to."

Tucked into a bag tucked into a jacket,
we headed westward
as far as we could,
before a cop approached
a teen at midnight
technically committing
a catnapping.

#cats #poetry #love #sigourney #rain #comedy #sexton #smithstreetband #lester #teen

May 2018

luna

clinomania

woke up to the bitterness in my mouth again
stuck on my throat
so i thought i’d get rid of it
for you.

woke up to the bitterness in my mouth again
i am still telling myself
putting this in words isn’t in vain.

these fingers used to run freely
tenderly, through your hair
and through this nest of thoughts.
unruly, but surely, telling me with certainty
i am deserving.

lately, they are hesitant and careful
as if there is nothing worthy to boast about
this silent room is made for poets
i can’t hear anything.

woke up to the bitterness in my youth again
and it’s telling me you are the last thing i need.
as i sit by my bed and try to count the lines in my skin
not as if there is still light within.
still, i tirelessly burn them until they turn blue
one by one, reminding me of the days i could have spent loving you.

they will write you beautiful letters
you will be part of enchanting melodies
somewhere this piece of crumbled paper won’t reach,
but it still knows, i am trying
for you.

cy.

#depression

Willard May 2018

Laura's Theme

love is muscular dystrophy.

i can feel the earth cave in
and the mountains touch tips,
a "drunken mistake"
in the church parking lot
they'll never tell their friends.

i get it.
i never told my friends the truth,
i just told them i loved them.

and for a while i have been
attempting to soundtrack
the world's end, my end,
and the realization that
my gastrointestinal system
will collapse before i'm 20
if i don't lift my head up for once.

yet every good poem i've ever written
has been sober and manic,
pessimism with too much hope,
and every metaphor used
never held any actual weight.

i've welcomed writer's block
with half open arms
as i try to write a final track,
or at least a penultimate one,
if the time doesn't feel right.

if i have to promise once more
that i'd try to take care of myself,
stop crying in empty driveways
over broken promises,
stop holding myself over
the diner's staircase
with bulging anticipation.

it felt good being surrounded,
it feels bad being crushed

and knowing there is so much more
out there in the valley or whatever universe
i decide to live in,
yet i can't get out
of my family's trash compactor.

#depression #teenage #suicide #anxiety #angst #navelgazing #lester #keeganlester #shange #sexton

Willard May 2018

romantic theory pt. 1

romantic theory states
you can trace freckles on a skin
to match a constellation,
and the line that connects
the freckle between your toes
and the one on your index finger
is reminiscent of a slide.
a fun one.

ahhhh wrote a bunch of poetry like this one a while back.

#romance #cute #albee #tigersjaw #sexton #shange #willard #stars #pinkies

Willard May 2018

Crab Cakes

I want to be a crab cake
because I like tall buildings
perpendicular to highways,
penthouse balconies
thirty meter diving platforms.

whenever in San Fran,
i pancake my hands together
so i don't do impromptu Physics
eyeballing skyscrapers.

I want to be a crab cake
because I like tornado sirens
at two in the morning,
someone fetal position mouthwash drunk
in the bed next to me.

whenever in Birmingham,
i listen to my headphones;
tinnitus a siren wail
long after the flight home.

I want to be a crab cake
because I like bridge collapses;
infrastructure devastation
west of Florida,
killing all granola exports.

whenever in Portland,
i waitlist college signs
and estimate the weight limit
of a commuter bridge.

I want to be a crab cake
because the sunsets here
give me panic attacks.

it used to not,
but enough honey has built up
so bees swarm the bonnet
whenever there's a
blood orange tint.

I want to be a crab cake
because I don't like
the seafood here

or Sushi Pier discussions
of future trajectories
while rain pours on our
trout marinated in
Tahoe Tessie **** water.

I want to be a crab cake
because the mountains
bug me out.

i want flat land
where there are
blood prints on highways,
broken families in Tornado Valley,
and remains of promising bridges.

i want to be a crab cake
because i want the world
to eat me up.

um, yeah, poetry.

#angst #leaving #anxiety #nevada #willard #scary #sadboy #wild

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